


Your heart's desire

by Acajou Amarth (rustling_pages)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Buffy can't deal, F/M, Healing, Mirror of Erised, Post 'Chosen', Scoobies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustling_pages/pseuds/Acajou%20Amarth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Encouraged by the gang, Buffy looks into the Mirror of Erised. Startled by what she sees there, she embarks on a journey of healing and maybe finding that elusive thing she needs... </p><p>Spuffy fiveshot, post 'Chosen'. Slight crossover with 'Harry Potter'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is nominated at the Sunnydale Memorial Awards Round 27 for Best Angst, Best Characterization (Buffy), Best Crossover (Book: 'Harry Potter'), Best Pairing Conventional (Spuffy) and Best Post-Series Finale Fic.

There was a phone call, in the middle of the night. She meant to ignore it, but the constant ringing of her cell effectively kept her from falling back asleep, so she answered it in a reasonably foul mood.

"Who are you and why on earth would you call me at three in the freakin' morning?", she all but hissed into the receiver.

There was a rather startled silence at the other end and she seriously considered just hanging up, but then Giles finally spoke up.

"Buffy, I'm terribly sorry, I absolutely forgot the hour."

"God, Giles, we're as good as in the same time zone! What's so urgent that you're still up? And if you even say the word 'apocalypse', I'll let you know right away that there are plenty of other Slayers you could have woken to prevent it this time."

Her relationship with her former watcher was still strained to say the least and this was anything but helping. She almost wished she could keep a bit cooler than that, but was it really necessary to ring her up now? When she finally got some well-deserved sleep after a particularly nasty and gooey patrol? This was not going to get him on her good side again, whatever it was.

"No, no, it's nothing of that sort, thankfully. We merely found an artifact you might take an interest in."

"What is it this time? Another handy little Slayer scythe with mythical powers?"

Come to think of it, what had happened to the scythe? Had it been buried under the rubble when Sp-… No, not going there.

"It's quite astounding, really. It appears to be a mirror, at the very least six centuries old, but it doesn't show your reflection. Well, it does, but there's also-…"

He was cut of by a voice that could only belong to Dawn, who was obviously in the process of taking the phone away from Giles. At least, judging by the muffled complaints on his end that sounded a lot more like a spoiled child not getting his favorite toy than a grown and old man not getting to tell a story.

"It's so cool, Buffy! It's the Mirror of Erised, like straight out of the 'Harry Potter' books!", her sister's very excited voice all but squealed in her ear.

And huh?

"Huh?"

"God, you should really read those, they are so amazing… Plus, Zeitgeist much? But really, the Mirror of Erised! The one that shows you what your heart desires most of all in the entire world! And it's here, in our mansion now and we've all looked in it and it totally works and-…"

Now Dawn was obviously cut off by Giles again, judging from the small struggle she could hear.

"There was a scroll that came along with it to tell us what it does-…"

Dawn yelled gleefully in the background:

"But it's also in the description on the Mirror, as I've pointed out to those illiterates so many times now-…"

Buffy had quite enough of that now. She was tired and cranky and those two were way too cheerful for this time of the night and while this mirror thing didn't sound uninteresting, it wasn't the most fascinating subject when you only wanted to sleep forever.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, mythical Harry Potter mirror that makes you see what you want, yada, yada, yada… Very interesting. Did you really need to call me now for that?"

Silence on the other end.

"Well… no… We were simply very excited about this.", Giles eventually stammered, at least sounding like he felt reasonably ashamed of himself.

Buffy decided to take mercy on him. Just this once. For the sake of loving him so much she missed him more than she'd ever admit. Even though she was still mad at him.

"Fine. I'll take the next flight to London tomorrow morning. But it'd better be worth it!"

A smile on the other end, warmer than she'd felt it from him in long years.

"I believe it will."

Amicable silence so fragile neither would break it for the world. Or even for a heavy dose of sleep.

Eventually Buffy said:

"Night, Giles."

"Good night, Buffy. Call again tomorrow?"

"Course. Oh, and tell my sister to go to bed."

Her indignant voice from the other end:

"Hey! I'm no longer a teenager you can boss around! I'm-…"

"Good night, then!"

And Giles hastily hang up, leaving Buffy with a warm feeling of 'maybe we'll get along better this time' that lulled her back to sleep almost instantly.

~~~~~

In the end, Giles had to wait another day until Buffy could fly out due to vampire problems in Rome. The person who came to pick her up from the airport was, to her relief and disappointment, not Giles himself, but Willow. The others were, she explained, in the middle of daily slayer trainage. At least Giles, Dawn and Andrew were. Oz was on his way to get a Slayer they had found in Bath and Xander was on a date of all things. They all hoped the girl wouldn't turn out to be a demon.

The ride back to the headquarters was spend with only semi-awkward small talk – a step up from their usual interaction – and a bit of background information on this so-called Mirror of Erised. Apparently it didn't show you just something you wanted, but only the deepest, most hidden and strongest desire of your heart. Which was why they all wanted to and/or had to look into it, even the new Slayers.

It could be very painful, whatever it was one saw in the Mirror, but it also brought clarity over your priorities. After all, there were Slayers that were meant for the job and others that would – after their education in all things demony and vampiristic – merely have to guard their home towns and a bit of the area around it. The mere number allowed for that. Now that was news for Buffy.

When she asked where they had found it, Willow answered that Angel had sent it from Los Angeles (an export that must have cost him dearly, because the thing was supposedly really big), where he had gotten it from some demon they had vanquished.

"Wonder what he saw. I mean-… probably you, but-… um…"

Putting Willow out of her self-inflicted stammer, Buffy simply answered:

"He saw redemption."

Not her.

There was still an uncomfortably large part of her heart attached to Angel. Even though it was pointless, really. Loving him was more than just a waste of energy. It was cruel and wouldn't lead to anything, most of all because she could love him as much as she wanted, he would always choose his path of redemption over her. Buffy wasn't guessing when she said what her ex-love of her life probably saw in that mirror. She knew, because his actions proved exactly that time and time again. He could claim he wanted to be with her, he could get jealous over her being with-… No! – but she knew better than to expect that elusive happy ending ever coming any step closer. Never mind the state of her metaphorical cookies; his would never be done baking.

They had reached the building now, the huge mansion towering over them as they made their way in sufficiently awkward silence after the forbidden topic of Angel. Willow looked sheepish and uncomfortable, but after entering the edifice, she started talking again, first overly cheerful, obviously trying to pretend there was no vast gap between her and her best friend and she hadn't screwed up by bringing Angel into it. As she went on, the honest excitement about the mirror was shining through, though, and brought a beautiful smile to her face.

"Xander and Oz and Dawn and Giles, t-they've looked, too. Xander said he saw himself with Anya and from what I could tell, they were probably doing something… well, naughty. He wouldn't admit to it, but he was all blushy and excused himself real fast. I-it's still sweet, though, I think. I honestly didn't believe Anya meant enough to him to warrant being his 'heart's desire'. Giles wouldn't tell us what he saw, but he seemed really content when he left the room. And Dawn, she saw herself training Slayers. Which is what she is doing right now. Proclaimed she now realized that if she couldn't be a Slayer herself, she really wanted to be a Watcher. The non-stuffy kind. You should probably talk to her about it, but we all thought it was a really great idea."

Now that… That was an idea no one had ever had before. Her sister had done such a wonderful job growing up to be one of the smartest, most amazing young women the world had ever seen, with her eyes set on a future in education and demon fighting; it was strange nobody had ever made the connection. For some reason, Buffy thought the plan of becoming a watcher had not been new to Dawn, though. And thinking back to the days spent in an overcrowded house full of Potentials and especially the way her little sister had handled the news of not being one herself, Buffy felt kind of stupid for not understanding what had been in front of her the entire time.

Dawn hadn't just accepted not having special powers. She had helped others embrace theirs, shared her knowledge the best she could, helped with the research she actually seemed to enjoy and had done more than enough to prove that she was absolutely in her element helping the Potentials become full-fledged Slayers.

There was so much strength in her Buffy had simply overlooked, too busy with her own problems. She would definitely have to have a talk with her sister, one that was long overdue. They had drifted so far apart, it was time to make it right again. And Dawnie would make one hell of a great Watcher.

"A-a-and Oz, he didn't see anything, only himself, exactly the way he was, which means he couldn't be happier, which makes… me happy."

If her smile was anything to go about, she was not lying about that.

Oz. Buffy had met him a couple of times since he and Willow had found each other again and it was incredibly reassuring that he was still the same guy he'd been in high school.

It was astounding, really. They'd run into each other while Willow had been on mission to find a freshly located Slayer in Istanbul – something they both found insanely amusing for some reason they wouldn't share - and from that point on, her best friend had started glowing like Buffy hadn't seen her since Tara died. Thinking about it, Oz really did still seem like the kind of person who wouldn't need more for his perfect happiness than his band, control over his inner wolf and Willow.

"Oh, and Andrew, he… he saw his friends. W-warren and Jonathan. I think it was mostly Jonathan that was hard for him. He saw the way it could be had he not killed his best friend. It was so sad… He was really upset. I felt so bad for him… and f-for the first time, I could really see that he's just as messed up as-…"

Buffy was almost sure who she would see. True, it could always be Angel, because he was the tragic love of her life, after all. He was the one thing she almost had in her grasp without ever being able to hold on to him, her other half, her perfect completion she couldn't ever really be with. If she saw him in a mirror that showed her heart's most deep and innermost longing, she would not be surprised. But it would be rather bitter, especially with knowing he wouldn't see her in return.

Who she was really expecting, though, was her mum. Her heart ached just thinking about it. Willow had told her no conversations could be held with the person in the mirror, so talking to her mother only once more after her death was out of the question. But she would see her, just as she used to be. She would look into a mirror and see all the motherly warmth she had missed so much reflected back at her. Her mum's smile, the kindness in her eyes, the reassurance Buffy had craved ever since she had found the body lying on the couch. God, she missed her so much…

Her steps had grown faster and her eyes moist just at the thought of what awaited her. It dimly registered that Willow was still talking to her and she tried to focus on what her best friend was saying.

"…but you have to be really careful not to get… a-addicted to it. That was also in the scroll, that people who find the Mirror are in danger of becoming kind of… stuck in the reflection of their dreams. Like they can't appreciate real life anymore because the mirror shows them having what they really want. A-and, Buffy, I felt that, too, the t-temptation to stay there forever, stay where I could be with Tara…"

Her voice trailed off. Buffy had slowed down during Willow's speech, suddenly becoming aware of her friend's obvious distress. She hadn't even wondered, hadn't asked her what the mirror had shown the redhead. God, no wonder they couldn't find back to each other! Buffy felt like a terrible friend.

Of course it was Tara. And of course seeing her must have been horrible for Willow and impossible to let go of. She realized how big a sacrifice it must be for her to follow the unwritten rule of not looking into the mirror too many times.

"I haven't looked into it since. Not a good track record with addiction and all that…"

On an impulse, Buffy stopped entirely and hugged her best friend. It was difficult to voice compassion for her, even though she more than understood what Willow must be going through. After all, she had lost someone, too. More times than a young heart could take.

The image of two clasped hands in flames shot through her mind before she could push it away. Which she did, immediately after realizing where her thoughts had led her. This was not a path she would let herself go down. There wasn't a lot that was taboo, but him she couldn't-…

A quiet trepidation seeped into her at the thought that Willow had just relived all her grief. Had to let go all over again now. And once Buffy saw her mum in the Mirror, it would be the same for her.

"I'm really happy with Oz, Buffy… I'm so happy that-… I wouldn't have believed it, that I could be so happy again. And I love him so much… But T-tara…"

Tara was the love of her life. She didn't have to say them for the words to ring deafeningly in the stuffy silence.

"I know.", was all that Buffy could say and tightened her arms around her friend.

They stood there like that for what seemed like an eternity, just holding each other, sharing a grief that couldn't be spoken. In a way, it was an almost cleansing experience. For the first time since before Willow had helped kick Buffy out of her own house, they felt like best friends again instead of two estranged people with unaddressed mutual resentment between them.

Buffy knew what she was about to see in this room would in all likelihood rip open scars. But this wound, her trip was mending and even if she got nothing else out of it, having her friend back was more than plenty to go on.

They eventually let go of each other, each wiping away at some stray tears and sharing an almost embarrassed laugh that still managed to sound like an inside joke. Conspiratory, light, despite the heavy issues that had just come onto the table. Then, as if following a silent command, their hands found each other and with a nod, they finally walked down the last few corridors until they reached the heavy door to the room holding the mythical artifact.

Buffy let go of Willow's hand and took in a deep breath.

"It's best if you don't look into the Mirror until you're standing directly in front of it. Then you don't have to see them all… fuzzy and unreal. They'll just be there and you can imagine the Mirror is showing them because they're really here. Same goes for walking away. Just turn around and walk out the door without hesitating or looking back. I don't know why, but it… it helps. Like you're looking into your heart and then walking away from it… If that makes any sense."

Buffy was still staring at the handle of the door, simply inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling… It suddenly occurred to her how difficult it must be for Willow to be standing outside that door without being allowed to go in.

"You don't have to stay here, Will", she said, "If it's too hard for you…"

"No!", Willow quickly interfered, "No, I want to be here. Trust me, y-you'll need someone… after…"

One more shuddering breath.

"Thank you."

She finally reached out to grasp the handle.

"You think you'll see your mother, don't you?", her best friend's voice had never sounded so gentle, so understanding and Buffy didn't know how she had made it all those years without this wonderful, wonderful person to lean on.

She let out a choked up 'yeah' and opened the door.

Stepping into the wide, dusty room with the high ceiling felt like stepping into a dream. The sun bursting through the curtainless windows illuminated the room to a degree of glowing in a surreal light and set the large, unspeakably old Mirror into scene perfectly.

Suddenly, Buffy panicked. The door had fallen closed behind her and she was now about to face whatever it was her heart longed for most in the entire world. And what if it wasn't her mother she would see, after all? What if she turned out to be this incredibly shallow person who only wanted the beautiful pair of 900 Euro boots she had seen on her last shopping trip? What if her heart's desire was something vain and materialistic and-…

Before she could keep freaking out about this, she closed her eyes and walked ten steps until she knew she had to be close enough and facing the Mirror. And God, how much she yearned to see her mom smile just one more time; the destruction of Sunnydale had left her even without a single picture and she wanted to see her just that one-…

She opened her eyes and her knees gave out.

A toneless whisper that felt like a scream.

"Spike…"


	2. Chapter 2

It was perfection, how the mirror portrayed Spike. His scarred eyebrow lifted lightly at seeing her. He was wearing that black ensemble she never would have admitted to liking on him, the tight pants and the shirt underneath his beloved leather duster that had burned with him. His striking blue eyes were twinkling with a calm, but happy smile, the kind she hadn't seen much when he was alive. There was mischief in those cobalt orbs, mirth in the way the corners of his mouth curled, but what stood out more than that was the genuine, undiluted joy. Like he didn't have to hold back, like he knew she wouldn't react badly to seeing him happy. He seemed different, somewhat… unafraid.

He knelt down behind her now that she was on the floor, one hand lifting a strand of her mirror hair to his mouth, where he gently kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers.

She had grown her hair. Whether it had been subconsciously for him or merely because she liked this do, she didn't know, but it now looked almost the same way it had when she had chopped it off because Spike said he loved it. His reverence over it would have brought tears to her eyes if they weren't already streaming down her cheeks so freely.

Her mirror-self now took his outstretched hand and she could almost feel the way it fit in hers, the calluses on his palm beneath slender fingers. That she could only almost feel it made it more surreal to her, the tableau before her. Mirror-Buffy was smiling now, getting up with his help – accepting his help – and letting him gently wipe away her tears. Then they were just looking at each other, content with being together and not having to hide anything.

And she felt the cold, hard stone floor beneath her fingertips, could feel herself wanting to dig in there if only for the sake of feeling anything but alone facing what could have been.

Buffy had moved on quickly after his sacrifice. She had accepted it for what it was; a chance to live her life as something other than the isolated freak with all the power and responsibility. She was no longer the only Slayer and the Hellmouth she had spent so long guarding was gone thanks to him. She was free now and her life filled to the brim with opportunity. So she had thanked him in her head and thrown herself headfirst into this whole new world. And it had been glorious, at first.

Then, of course, reality had caught up with her. The responsibilities she had assumed to have almost gotten rid of kept coming at her. There were Slayers all over the globe to locate and train, as well as more than one demon or vampire trying to rule or destroy the world to be stopped. In addition to that, there were seemingly irreparable rifts between her and what used to give her strength. Her friends were no longer the people she loved and trusted, her watcher a man she could barely stand due to his condescension in the way he had thought to handle what was her business and her business only. Even her sister had felt far away.

There was something else missing, too, something big that she tried to fill with lovers, both human and undead, with mindless partying, shopping, anything to make it better, but all she did was feel empty. And in all this time she had never once thought about Spike for longer than a few seconds she quickly brushed away.

Now, having this perfect view them together in a mirror that showed what she couldn't have, she knew why she hadn't, why her subconscious hadn't allowed it. Because if she ever allowed herself to remember him, really remember him, it would sink in that he was gone, that he wouldn't come back and that she'd never see him again. And then she would miss him so much it would feel as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest.

It was that sudden understanding that turned the streams of quiet tears which made it hard to see him in that mirror into full out desperation, into sobs that took her breath away, made her heave, turned her into a blubbering, pitiful mess of regret and grief that would never go away again.

Spike was dead.

~~~~~

Willow was getting worried. True, Buffy hadn't been in there long and she vividly remembered how traumatic the experience had been for her, but from the sound of it, Buffy had been completely breaking down for the better part of ten minutes.

It had started out slow, the first few minutes only spent in quiet, possibly already crying, but not the broken sobs and the words that wouldn't come for their sake that had started then. It was all the more disturbing because Willow hadn't seen Buffy shed more than a few silent tears since after the destruction of Sunnydale. Then again, they had drifted so far apart…

Buffy was still mad at her for the thing when she had been one of the people to make her leave her own house, who hadn't trusted her enough to keep leading them. And Willow herself had been ashamed for it. It hadn't been unjustified, but in the end, their friendship alone should have been enough to have a little more trust in her, to have her back no matter the situation. She had made a mistake. Sure, she had tried to apologize, but her former best friend had been so distant since the apocalypse-that-didn't-happen that her words had fallen on almost deaf ears. Buffy had said it was okay, true, but they still hadn't seen each other much after that.

It seemed that she needed some time away from all of them, because even though they worked together in the worldwide finding and raising of new Slayers, things had never gone back to the way they used to be. And if Willow was completely honest with herself, getting back together with Oz and the happiness that came with it had alienated her further from the Chosen One who seemed to have very much returned to the state she had been in immediately after being resurrected; cold, numb and never quite there. Seeing her like that hadn't helped with the guilt and it had spoiled her suddenly perfect again life.

Buffy had ceased to be a priority. And if you looked superficially enough, she seemed to be doing fine.

To hear her lose it so completely was terrible.

She knew she shouldn't go in there, knew she should leave Buffy to the unspeakable grief she was obviously experiencing right now, but-… even she hadn't reacted that badly.

Seeing Tara had been a shock. It had hit her like a punch in the heart-region, having the woman she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with in front of her, who had been ripped out of that life in a single moment. It had hurt. It had burned and she had shed so many tears until there were none left in her. But it had been quiet and Tara had smiled at her so serenely that it had been more of a comfort to be with her than a reminder of what she could never have again.

Buffy was not taking any comfort out of this and if Willow didn't know how hard her best friend had taken her mother's death, she would have guessed to hear a woman grieving over the person they loved more than anyone in the entire world for the first time. And that was too difficult to bear alone, even for someone as incredibly strong as Buffy.

So she went in, her heart breaking at the sight of that tough savior of the world, who was as good as lying on the floor, her arms pressed over her chest so tightly as if she was scared she would literally fall apart if she let go. She was shaking, rocking back and forth, eyes transfixed on the Mirror, though Willow couldn't imagine her even seeing anything due to all the tears spilling down her cheeks and the sobs wracking her body.

"Oh God, Buffy…"

She was beside her in a second, taking her into her arms and gently helping her stand. Buffy was refusing, though, shaking her head frantically, "no"s blubbering from her throat. It was probably as hard to leave as it was for her to be in here, but Willow couldn't let her stay in this room a second longer.

"Come on, you need to get out of here. It's not good for you."

Her worries only grew when she practically had to lift Buffy out of the room. She was no longer trying to make Willow release her, but she sure as hell wasn't walking on her own. Willow was almost relieved when the door finally firmly closed behind them, but Buffy still wasn't doing any better.

"Oh Buffy, I'm so, so sorry… It must be so hard for you to see her, after all these-… I'm so sorry."

And then she was speaking, looking at her with an almost pleading expression behind the sobs.

"N-no, Will, it wasn't-… It wasn't Mom…"

Not her mother? But what else could possibly make her so upset? Well, she might see herself with Angel, all happy and unhampered by such silly things as curses and paths of redemption, but that wouldn't unsettle her so extremely. Or maybe she saw herself as normal, not burdened with all the Slayer-stuff. But that would be something Buffy would probably expect and it wouldn't drive her completely-…

"S-spike… It was-… I saw-…"

What?

"You saw… Oh. Oh! Oh, Buffy, that's-… um, unexpected… But-… sure you saw Spike?"

That sure was pretty much the last thing she would have anticipated. And Buffy obviously hadn't, either. But it definitely explained-…

"It was him and he was alive-… or undead-… or-… He was just there. And he was smiling and-… Oh God, Will…"

Willow couldn't do more but try to hold Buffy, let her cry into her shoulder, stroke her hair, anything that might comfort her, but this was… kind of beyond her powers. Spike was…

"Spike is dead! He died! He freakin' died for me and I didn't-… I mean I told him, but I only did it because-… He deserved it so much and he was dying and he was dying for me and I had to-… I couldn't let him die unloved… And he saw right through it, Will, he saw right through it…"

Buffy was going out of her mind. Nothing, nothing could have prepared her for seeing him. Even if she would have let herself take the possibility into consideration. Spike had died and she had told him she loved him as a gesture of saying "Thank you" and he hadn't even hesitated. Not even a second of hope for him. He knew her that well.

"Just told me right out that I didn't and thanked me for saying it, that god damn idiot vampire… and he was right and I didn't and-… Why couldn't I? Why couldn't I just love him? He loved me so much and he got a soul for me and he died for me and I just couldn't-… He deserved it and I couldn't-…"

"Buffy…"

Willows voice was the softest she had ever heard it. Surprisingly enough, her eyes were glazed over with unshed tears, but there was a smile in the corners of her mouth that couldn't seem to decide between joy and sadness.

"You just saw him in the Mirror of Erised."

It took a while to sink in. Buffy didn't understand right away what the redhead was getting at. But it certainly gave her pause, calmed her while she thought about what that meant. And then it suddenly snapped in her and she sucked in a breath.

"I loved him?"

Willow just nodded, that strange smile widening slightly.

"I love him?"

And then the rest of the gang came hurrying along the corridors.

~~~~~

They had rushed the training. When Willow had texted them that Buffy was officially picked up from the airport, they had gotten it over with faster than usual. They had decided beforehand that Willow wouldn't have to wait until she led Buffy to the room with the Mirror. After all, what could a large group of people do while one was finding out what their heart wanted most of all? They had to wait. Didn't mean they weren't dead curious.

Xander was back by the time they were finished, too, while Oz was still doing the Slayer run. His date had been… well, at least she hadn't tried to bite off his head or tied him up to open a Hellmouth with his blood. Apart from that, it hadn't really gone as well as he could have hoped, but it sure was a step in the right direction.

He had almost expected to see Anya. By the time he had been alerted, they had all known exactly what the Mirror did and he'd had time to come to terms with her being the thing he wanted most. What he hadn't even begun to imagine was how explicit that century old thing would be… And hence the date with the pretty girl he had met at the nearby pub he hadn't even allowed himself to think about before.

Oh, he had dated before. He was, after all, a man with needs and Anya really was gone. But he had never gone into it feeling ready for more than just sex. Strangely enough and even though sex had been exactly what the mirror had showed him and Anya have, it had given him enough closure to actually try to move on for good.

And he would find someone. Eventually. He hoped. Someone who wasn't lethal and maybe a little more interested in what he did for a living than pub girl.

He met up with Giles in one of the training rooms. Always nice to appreciate hot girls in training, even if he had sworn to keep his hands off of them. He helped out there a lot, though, telling them about demons and vampires he had fought with Buffy, the Legendary Slayer everyone couldn't know enough about. He taught them about the importance of always having a carpenter around when evil things destroyed your home on a weekly basis and generally made them giggle a lot.

Now, though, there were more pressing matters to deal with. Maybe part of why his date had gone so disastrously had been because he had known Buffy would be in town by now and about to face her heart's desire.

No, he was under no illusion. It wouldn't be him. And seeing as it hadn't been her in his mirror image, even though part of him had guessed it might be, for the first time in over a decade of knowing the feisty blonde that was okay. He was well and truly over her. Or at least as much as he'd ever be.

Maybe he could be if he ever really made up with her. The thing with the losing an eye and voting her off the island were still rather between them.

Giles also seemed on edge.

"Ah, Xander, there you are. I assume everything went-", glasses off to polish them, "um, splendidly?"

It wasn't a question. He was pretty sure he could answer anything he wanted and the old man wouldn't even hear him. And seeing as it was him and he couldn't resist teasing the watcher, Xander said:

"Oh yes, only a Mumshika demon this time. Nothing I couldn't handle on my own."

Giles, who as predicted hadn't been listening, put his glasses back on and looked at the clock at wall close to him and muttered:

"How nice, how nice…"

Xander good naturedly patted him on the shoulder and chuckled.

Then one Slayer knocked another out with a rather well-aimed roundhouse kick and Giles hurried over there to see if everything was alright.

Xander watched for another minute or so as the Slayer who had kicked the other burst into tears and tried to apologize to the slowly becoming conscious again girl while the watcher seemed rather inept at calming one and bringing the other back to her senses at the same time.

In the end, he ended the training session early and told the crying girl to accompany the other to the nurses station – yes, they had a nurse on duty 24/7.

"My, what a mess those newbies are…", he muttered when he came back to a grinning Xander who had watched the scene, highly entertained by it but also kind of keen on just walking out of there to find Buffy and Willow.

"Hey, Giles, can we go see Buffy now?"

Rupert Giles smiled at the young man's impatience. Sometimes he acted as though he was still a teenager as opposed to the grown man he ought to be. Still, he couldn't pretend he wasn't curious about Buffy's vision in the Mirror of Erised as well. So he gave Xander a smile and with a determined "Let's." he was on his way to the other room.

"We just have to get-…"

He stopped dead in his tracks, watching as Dawn taught an eager Slayer how to block a dagger.

"No, a little more to the left, or else he'll have you."

He, in this case, was a frightened Andrew equipped with a wooden knife. However, Andrew using various fake weapons to defend himself against Slayers learning martial arts was hardly news. Dawn, on the other hand, was.

He had heard of her plans to become a watcher and even though he had his reservations about her being the first American in a long line of English – in the worst of cases Irish, Welsh or Scottish – watchers, there was no doubt she was perfect for the job. Possibly better than most British people up for it.

He felt the same sense of fatherly pride that had often overtaken him with Buffy before their fallout when he watched her give exact instructions on how to move. She sounded calm, encouraging, certainly more patient than he was. The enthusiasm of youth, he supposed, and of finding something you truly enjoyed doing. In short, the immature girl with preferences to talking about boys and shopping had turned into a strong young woman on a path that suited her.

Xander was less impressed with the scenario and called out:

"Hey Dawnster! We're off to see Buffy now! Wanna come?"

And just that soon the maturity in her face vanished and almost childish glee filled it at the though of what her sister might discover. Giles smiled.

"Okay, Kayleigh, that's it for today! I've absolutely got to find out what Buffy sees in the mirror!"

Kayleigh let go of Andrew, who had been yammering about his arm ever since she had managed to get to his wrist.

"Does that mean I'm done, too?", he asked Dawn, rubbing his elbow with a scrunched up face.

"Oh, sure!", she yelled, already almost out of the room, dragging Xander with her.

Still smiling wistfully, Giles followed those two, Andrew in tow. Only when he had reached the corridor that would lead to the next one that had the room with the mystical mirror and the mindless chatter between the others had died down, he remembered something Xander had said.

"Wait, did you say your date was a Mumshika demon? I thought those were extinct!"

Xander turned around both exasperated and amused

"Geez, Giles! I was just-… Wait, those are real? What do they do?"

"Oh, the usual; kill, maim, drink bone stem, leave behind turquoise pus…"

They turned the corner and were confronted with a sight they hadn't expected.

~~~~~

It was Xander who asked the obvious question.

"Woah! What the hell happened? Why is Buffy crying?"

But Buffy was still too preoccupied with her realization to answer. She merely stared mindlessly at them, mouth gaping unattractively wide open. Willow stepped in for her, voice still soft and soothing.

"She saw Spike."

Buffy still felt like she was surrounded by fog, but when her sister stepped forth and got on her knees right in front of her, what she was saying managed to penetrate the disbelief and-… something of what Willow had meant to tell her.

Distantly, she could hear her sister, who sounded hopeful of all things.

"You saw… You saw Spike? Really? You're not just making this up?"

She suddenly remembered something. Something she had put aside with everything else regarding the peroxide-blonde vampire. There had been one time when she had been forced to think about Spike after he had burned. Dawn had come to her and with red and swollen eyes asked her to please tell her how he had died. Buffy had explained it to her, quickly, efficiently, emotionlessly. And her sister had cried the entire time, quietly, holding back for –… probably for her sake.

"Then why… Why didn't you ever-… You never even grieved and I-… I had no one, because everyone hates him and-…"

Buffy hadn't cried. She hadn't even comforted Dawn. She had told her the story and then proceeded to throw herself into life without Spike. She had been done with him. A finished chapter. No use looking back.

Maybe that had been the reason why her relationship with her sister hadn't patched up until now. Maybe the fact that only Dawn seemed to miss him and that Buffy never showed any sign of it… Maybe that was the unspoken resentment between them.

"I'm so stupid! He was my best friend and I couldn't even be kind to him, because of what he did to you. And then he died before I could make it right."

She was crying right now, her Dawnie, and all the anger seemed to seep out of her with it. Buffy carefully took her in her arms, finally feeling that connection again, the need to protect, the love. Dawn's wrapped around her even tighter. And together, they grieved.

Their weeping was the only sound penetrating the heavy silence. Everyone felt as though they were intruding in a very, very private moment. Giles was cleaning his glasses, facing away from them, Xander was fidgeting with something or other that was bound to fall down and make a disturbance and Andrew seemed embarrassed and sheepish. Only Willow stood and smiled.

"He just died!", Dawn sobbed into Buffy's shaking shoulder.

And Andrew couldn't wait any longer. He had grown to love the girl dearly and couldn't stand to see her in so much pain. Buffy, too, he guessed. So he spoke up, red-eared and twitchy and feeling really bad about not having said anything sooner.

"Um… This is probably incredibly bad timing, but he made me promise I wouldn't tell and you didn't seem to miss him anyway and-… Spike's kind of-… um…. alive."

Dead silence, everyone staring at him incredulously. Even Buffy and Dawn had stopped their mutual sniveling to gape at him. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head.

Then Xander exclaimed:

"He's what now?"

"Well, there was something about the amulet that brought him back and he was a ghost and then he decided to stay and help Angel and-… it's all very confusing and I didn't really understand it."

He shrugged awkwardly.

"Since when?"

Willow's mouth was basically hanging open. Not only was that a piece of really unexpected news, but also-… Everyone had mixed feelings about the vampire. No one really liked him, apart from Buffy and Dawn, but then again, he had died to save the world, so there was a sort of confused gratitude in it, too. But no matter how little anyone knew how they would deal with Spike suddenly standing in front of them, obnoxiously back from the dead, they all knew that he would be back for Buffy. The fact that he hadn't sought her out-… It didn't just make any sense; it was mindboggling.

"I don't know… Um… Must have been pretty much directly after he died…"

"What? He's back from the dead? He's alive and didn't even bother telling me?"

Her sister was saying exactly what she would if Buffy were any less dazed by the news.

Giles' patented "Oh dear Lord…" came at the same time as a very frightened:

"Don't kill the messenger!"

Andrew squealed and hid behind his arms. Just as Dawn was about to question the poor guy further, a tiny voice Buffy almost couldn't identify as her own interrupted her oncoming tirade.

"He didn't want me to know he was back?"


	3. Chapter 3

For the second time in two days, Buffy was on a plane. Middle part, this time, and an aisle seat. No watching clouds from above to distract her from where she was going and she was just about as uneasy about getting there as she was anxious to make the time fly until she did.

Spike was alive.

To be honest, she still couldn't quite believe it. And even the piece of her that knew it to be true – the one who had caused her friends quite a shock when she had announced she had to go see him right away – even that Buffy had no idea what to do with the information.

Spike was alive and he hadn't even wanted her to know. He had wanted her to go on believing he was dust buried with along the Hellmouth. It didn't make sense. If there was one thing she had been certain about it was Spike's inability to stay away from her. He never would have failed to be at her side the moment he was resurrected before.

Unless the rules of the game had changed. Because maybe the reason he hadn't told her about his return was that he just didn't care for her that much anymore. Which sounded ridiculous, even in her head. It had taken long enough for her to accept what the annoying vampire felt for her was not just obsession or even lust to make it impossible to believe he had suddenly fallen out of love with her.

But what if his last moment had lifted him beyond caring about her most?

There was one thing, though. One thing that didn't make any sense. Well, apart from all the other things he owed her a serious explanation about. Spike knew her a lot better than she knew herself, he always had. He had known that she wanted even when she hadn't wanted to admit it even to herself. He had known she didn't want to be alone after finding out her mother was sick even though just minutes before she had told him he was beneath her. He had known that she needed someone to tell her she was strong when she felt week.

But he hadn't known that she loved him, hadn't believed her. And true, she hadn't known it either and she hadn't meant it and she had only said it so that he knew he deserved her love, but she had certainly tried her best to convince him. How come he hadn't been able to see that underneath all the self-deception, she really did love him? Or would love him, anyways.

The look on his face when she had visited him in the basement and he had been in the middle of punching-…

She really shouldn't have kissed Angel. But it had felt right and she did still love him very much and he had saved her life and what had that creepy stalker vampire even been doing there, watching them?

Unfair, Buffy. She knew exactly that he had only followed her to be able to look out for her, to help if she needed it. He had told her the night when she had simply allowed him to hold her had been the best night of his life and she had turned around to make out with Angel of all people. Of course he hadn't believed her.

But he should have! And he should certainly know better than to stay away from her even though he was alive again. Or undead. He should know she would want to know, want to see him. Even if he didn't believe she loved him, he had to know she cared. So why hadn't he?

Nothing she had ever done had been enough to chase him away for good. He wouldn't ever leave, no matter how hard she tried to make him. Even after the thing in the bathroom he had come back and she knew how horrible they both felt about that. He hadn't ever managed to stay away from her and now was the time to start?

It made her mad. It made her sad. It confused her to no end, because-… What if he just didn't love her anymore? She wouldn't know how to deal with that, not after that gianormous realization of her own.

On the seat next to her, Dawn was yawning. She hadn't been planning on taking her with her, but when her not-so-little sister had thrown a fit at the thought of Buffy leaving her behind to see Spike, she had conceded that if anyone had the right to make certain he was actually back, it was Dawn. Strictly speaking, Buffy herself didn't have the right. She hadn't even consciously mourned him and it had taken a stupid enchanted mirror to show her how she felt about him. Dawnie had at least known all along and she had been left alone with her grief.

Who was she to tell her she couldn't come to kick his ass about not telling her he was back from the completely dead?

Giles had curiously refrained from objecting even though she could tell he'd wanted to and Xander had quickly given up after some half-hearted attempts, like even he knew Buffy and Dawn were right to seek Spike out. Oz had reacted to the news in typical Oz fashion and Willow was – for once – on no other side but theirs. Andrew had felt guilty enough to arrange the flight for them and to drive them to the airport. She really wanted to be mad at him, but if she was then she'd have to be mad at the object of general confusion and she just wasn't ready for that.

Buffy noticed Dawn was just as unable to sleep as she was. It was a long flight, and while they had the biggest chunk of it over with, they should use the time to catch up on some severely needed napping. The had already spent most of the previous night together, lying awake, sometimes talking, sometimes yelling, sometimes laughing. There was still a nervous aspect about their relationship Buffy had thought she'd gotten rid of after her own resurrection drama. There was still the issue of trust on the table and some more that ran even deeper, but now was not the time to solve those. There would be plenty of time after they had played a game of 'Finding Spike'.

For now, she was unnerved and entirely unconvinced that she was ready to meet him, even though a bigger part of her needed to see him and couldn't wait for even one more second. If everything went well… She doubted everything would go over smoothly enough to come near to 'well'.

~~~~~

When Angel told him Buffy was coming to Los Angeles, Spike's first instinct had been to run and hide. Okay, maybe his second instinct. The first was to run and find her, as always. But he really hadn't had any intention of sticking around. He had gone for so long without her knowing he was undead and well, this new challenge wouldn't make him cave. Hard as it was, he was going to be roaming the streets while Buffy went to visit her beloved poofter.

Then he heard the Niblet would come with her and his determination wavered. True, the little bit didn't exactly like him anymore, but he would certainly be glad to see her. Still, it wasn't enough for him to throw years of avoiding them both in the wind.

But when Angel told him they were on a plane here because they knew he was back, it wasn't like he could still pretend to not exist. Didn't want to, either. He had been itching, aching to make it known he was alive, even if rationality and a certain amount of self-protection had prevented him from picking up the phone.

The thought of seeing Buffy again… It had kept him going for the last few years. As much as he had never wanted to be with her and not be with her again… No. She was what he was fighting for. He had died a hero, someone worthy. All he could do now was to try to be half the man he had been when his flaming hand was grasping hers. So that maybe one day he could meet her again and she could be proud of whom he had become.

Part of him knew that wasn't proper redemption. Not like Angel, who actually wanted the thing itself. Spike, he only wanted the girl. But seeing as he could never have her, it amounted to the same.

Now she would be here and he had no idea how she would react. He wanted to believe she'd be happy, wanted to believe he could go back to being someone she trusted and defended, someone she allowed to hold her while she slept.

She wouldn't, though. It had been a long time since then and to her, he had been dead. The reason why she was on her way to meet him was probably to kick his ass into the next year.

It wasn't like there was only doubt about Buffy's feelings for him. He knew she cared about him – or at least had, back then. She might not have loved him, but she had cared and she had been sad to lose him. Finding out he had been back for so long must have felt like a right betrayal of their slowly budding friendship. Even if staying away had been the right thing to do, for both their sa-…

She was here.

He didn't know how he knew. Even his enhanced vampire senses couldn't tell yet. Her distinct Buffy scent wasn't in the air yet, he couldn't hear her voice or her soft little steps or the rush of blood her heart was pumping through her. Still, he knew. It wouldn't be long now and she'd be standing in front of him.

He was outside the building. Angel had told him she'd come here and expected to find him here, but he'd be damned before he got caught in a tiny room with a potentially pissed of Slayer and her equally scary kid sister. Besides, the air was surprisingly clear for a long day of pollution, a strong wind blowing everything clean. You could almost make out the stars.

This was where he wanted to meet her, only lit by the streetlamps and neon signs. In his world, not Angel's. In her world.

He could smell her now and he felt his stomach twist with anxiety. Apparently it didn't matter how long he went without her, one waft of that particular fragrance and he was hers. She smelled of the night and of being nervous, a new detergent, but the same brand of shampoo. Mostly, she smelled like Buffy, fiery blood and fear.

Dawn was close by, her steps less measured and on guard like Buffy's. It was more like she couldn't decide between skipping and stomping.

He could hear them next, their breaths, the way they inhaled and exhaled, the bit fast and shallow, Buffy demonstratively calm. And then there was the blood, their identical blood and the steady thum-thum, thum-thum of their hearts.

It made his soul sing.

He was completely still now, feeling the air blow through his duster and in his eyes while he was practically impersonating a statue, staring, staring at the street corner they would turn any second now. He briefly wondered why they hadn't taken a taxi or let one of the Wolfram & Hart guys pick them up.

Then she really was there and nothing could have prepared him for that onslaught of emotion. It almost felt like it had when he had opened the door of his little cell in the Sunnydale school basement and there she had been. He had known before, if he hadn't been able to sense her otherwise, her hollering and the fighting sounds would have been a dead giveaway, but seeing her was a completely different deal.

It was both the most joyous sight if ever a sight there was and the most harrowing. It was Buffy and her hair was the way it had been before she had chopped it off to spite him – the way he would always love it best – and her smile-… There was no smile. She wasn't smiling. She had stopped, still a lot more steps between them than he would prefer – or maybe he wanted her to stay exactly where she was, he didn't even know.

That's how far he got in his assessments before Dawn came charging towards him.

The first thought he had after she had hit him square in the eye was that the Bit had been training. He couldn't remember her packing a punch like that. On the other hand, he didn't think he ever had felt her wrath in any other way than verbal. Which had actually hurt more than this, to be honest. There couldn't be anything more painful than disappointing someone who had been looking up to you. Nothing worse than knowing they now hated you. Especially if they'd been the closest thing to a friend you had.

He had been excited to see her again, at least after the Big Forehead had generously gone ahead and told him Buffy had said the bite sized one had at least missed him a little bit. Now, he just felt horrible at seeing her eyes swim with angry tears and her gingerly cradling her now injured hand.

He wanted to speak up, say anything – and he wasn't sure what that was going to be – to make things better, but she cut him off before he even got the chance to formulate any words.

"No! You don't get to talk! Not after letting me believe you were dead all this time!"

For the first time, he felt ashamed over his decision to stay away completely.

"I'm sorry, Niblet. I didn't think you-…"

"What?", she all but yelled, her voice wavering. "You didn't think I cared? You couldn't even get on the phone for thirty seconds to tell me you were alright?"

And then she was wrapped in his arms and he didn't even know who had moved first. All he knew was that he was holding her and she was holding him and if felt better than-… He couldn't even remember the last time he had felt so safe. Figures it would be him feeling safe with her, not her feeling safe with him. There he was, big badass vampire, letting a little girl fix a hole in his heart.

And then the words registered and no matter what, no matter what happened with Buffy or with the world or with him, he would never let her slip away again.

"I'm sorry you thought I wouldn't want to see you… I never told you I forgave you and that I missed my best friend. I can't believe that I let you die not believing that no matter what, I will always love you and need you in my life."

~~~~~

Buffy felt kind of stupid. Now that was the kind of welcome he deserved. Full of tears and punches and warmth. Her little sister had told Spike every last thing she wanted to say herself. Dawn wasn't scared and hiding and whatever it was that was going on in Buffy right now. She was honest and loving and God, why had she just totally stolen her thunder?

Seeing him was-… different. Different from what she remembered and very different from his image in the Mirror. The last time she had actually truly looked at him had been open, true, absolutely honest. He had been dying, after all. Nothing left to hide. And in the Mirror he had been almost serene, sure of her acceptance. It hadn't been necessary to veil himself.

Oh, he looked good, no question about that. He looked fantastic, really, all leather duster (hadn't that burned with him?), sharp cheekbones, hair gelled back in a way only he could pull off and to-die-for blue eyes. A lot like before. Also, not at all like before.

Now, he shut himself away almost instantly upon letting go of a happily crying Dawn and focusing completely on her. His shoulders hunched as if he was slightly scared of her; at the very least definitely on guard and he had an air of uneasiness about him, his smile almost sheepish, but not baring anything about himself.

"Hello, Buffy."

God, she had missed that dark rumble. Especially her name on his lips.

She wanted to say something, anything to indicate he didn't have anything to fear, that things would be better between them now, but the words got stuck in her throat and what slipped out instead sounded almost hostile.

"Why aren't you dead?"

His shoulders slumped beneath dark leather and she wanted to slap herself. Of course she had to muck it up starting right with the most aggressive words she could possibly have come up with to greet him.

"Sorry to disappoint, love."

When he smiled at her now, it was even more horrible to witness than before. It took the disappointment in his eyes to realize he had been hoping she would be happy to see him.

"I'm not disappointed, I'm-…"

… in love with you.

"…angry! You've been back for what now? Two years? And you never even bothered to check in. Has it even occurred to you that I might want to know you're no longer a pile of ashes?"

And what was it with her defensiveness? Why couldn't she just hug him, possibly kiss him and then go ahead to have her naughty way with him and tell him that she was so glad he was no longer dead, that she hadn't felt alive without him and that she. Freaking. Loved. Him? Why did he always bring out this side of her, this horrible, awful Buffy who rejoiced in causing him pain?

Here she was, finally reunited with the person she had missed more than anyone else she had lost, and while she felt bad about it, she had to fight tooth and nails to resist the urge to punch him in his stupid, insecure jaw. Just like the old days.

"I didn't-… Didn't want you to think less of me, pet."

And if he could have said anything to make her feel worse, it was exactly that. She got what he meant. He wanted her to remember him as the hero who had selflessly given his life for her and incidentally, for the entire rest of the world, too. He wanted to remain the guy who deserved the lie she had fed him to be a truth. He had honestly thought she'd rather have him dead and gone and a martyr instead of right here with her.

"Well, you should have said something."

Why? Why, why? Why was she acting like this? It was as if she was straight back to being recently resurrected I'm-having-an-abusive-affair-with-a-vampire-to-feel-anything Buffy.

Spike sighed.

"Was there anything you wanted, love?"

Suddenly the only thought left in her was how brave he must have been to tell her over and over again, even though he knew the only thing she would answer was pure and unchecked rejection. She hadn't been kind about his feelings, hadn't ever had the idea of maybe respecting his courage to tell her a truth she didn't want to hear.

Here she was, finally in love with him, and she couldn't say the words. It was so different now that they would have bigger consequences than letting him die loved. Now, she was facing a vampire - a man – who might just hold the key to all future happiness. Now he might reject her. And if he did? How could she possibly cope with him not wanting to be with her any longer?

Please, please, just say it. Say you still love me.

She'd get it. Maybe dying had provided perspective only a glance in the Mirror had given her. Maybe now he could see how horribly she had treated him, that the destructive nature of their relationship had not all been his fault, that it had been wrong of her to abuse him just to feel. Maybe he wouldn't think her worth the pain any longer.

So the words remained stuck in her throat and she could see a faint trace of anger in his eyes.

"What is it, Slayer?"

And she couldn't. She just couldn't.

"Nothing."

And then Dawnie was there, her sweet, annoying kid sister Dawn, all grown up and giving her a look as if Buffy had lost her mind. She had apparently left her position in the background, from the looks of it unable to watch this train wreck of a conversation any longer. Not like she could blame her.

"Hey Spike! How about you come back with us? Roomy old mansion in Scotland? Just for a little while? To catch up? Sure, it's a long flight, but-… oooh! You could help me teach Slayer fledglings! Pretty please?"

And she was laying on a pout that would have made the old Buffy proud.

But Spike wasn't smiling. He wasn't even really looking at Dawn. He was only looking at her, hope quickly fading from his eyes while he was searching hers. She knew what he wanted from her. She knew he wanted, he needed any sign – a crumb – that she wanted him to say yes.

She couldn't.

He finally turned to look at Dawn and gave her a sad smile. Sad. That was the word it all came down to. She had finally found him again, after years of missing him and she had made him sad.

"Don't rightly think big sis wants me there, pet."

Dawn shot her a seething look.

"Yes, she does!"

And when she finally managed to get over herself long enough to say "You should come", she knew she was too late.

He would be there, of course, would sit in the plane, chatting with Dawn, smiling and glad about regaining her friendship and completely broken inside to even be near a Buffy who couldn't even admit to being happy to see him. He would be at the mansion, be greeted with emotions ranging from awkwardness and a certain amount of hostility (Scoobies) to enthusiasm and fangirling (the new Slayers). He would stay and try to keep hoping she would eventually like him again.

She wished he wouldn't have to hope. She wished he knew. Why couldn't he just know without her spelling it out to him?

And why couldn't she just spell it out to him?


	4. Chapter 4

The gang was in a state of emergency and for once, no apocalypse was to blame. At least if you didn't count the one that had killed the vampire Buffy and Dawn were so upset about slash angry at slash needing to see. It seemed incomprehensible that only hours before, Buffy had been obliviously in Rome and the most exciting thing the rest of them had to deal with was a major spat between three 'Slayer fledglings', as Dawn called them and a minor problem with a group of Nik'prim demons.

Now, however, there was the matter of a resurrected platinum blond pest. Nobody had expected to have to deal with Spike ever again. He had died, after all, killing thousands of Turok-Han with a cheesy amulet and his soul. And while there was a certain amount of gratitude towards him for doing so and the unspoken agreement not to hold past deeds against someone who had sacrificed himself to save the world, they hadn't thought Buffy would take it so hard to not have him around anymore.

Willow kept saying that she loved him, had to in order to see him in the Mirror of Erised. He had been the one out of everyone she had loved that appeared there. The witch seemed to be at peace with the thought of them resuming their once-destructive relationship. In her opinion, if that was what the fates had intended for Buffy, it couldn't be bad for her – not after all the heartache and – well – deaths she had gone through to do her job of protecting the innocent and saving the world. And there was no doubt in her that Spike would rather die than hurt her again.

Xander was less happy about this unexpected development, but for once, he kept his mouth shut about it. He wished he could, wished it was his place, or that he was supported by a not mentally absent Giles, but things with Buffy had only began to be on the mend and he couldn't risk ruining that just because he didn't approve of her choice of lover.

He felt very mature. Positively old.

No, he didn't like Spike. He really, really, really didn't like Spike. And while part of him couldn't help but almost believe he would never intentionally cause Buffy pain after everything he had done for her, it didn't change the fact that he was a vampire – evil by nature, soul or no soul – and that unintentional harm could happen just the same. Plus, he REALLY, REALLY, REALLY didn't like Spike.

And what was up with Buffy? If she supposedly loved him, shouldn't she spend time with him or something? As in any time at all? And shouldn't they be all nauseatingly lusty around each other as they had been under the 'My will be done' spell? But no, they hardly ever met. Spike kept around Dawn – Xander really had to refrain from commenting on that – and Buffy went about her day as usual – no lovey-doveyness or anything of the kind could be sensed.

Things seemed more than awkward and if Buffy wasn't so obviously hurting over that, he would rejoice and run off into the beautiful land of denial, where he could believe she would simply send Spike back to LA one fine day without anything ever happening between them.

Sigh.

He'd probably have to get used to having the bloodsucking jerk around.

~~~~~

Buffy was stalking Spike. Now that was new. Usually, it was the other way round. Spike was the one leaving hundreds of cigarette butts underneath her window, the one who wouldn't let her have a moment of peace and quiet introspection during patrol, the one who chased her to either kill or love her, depending on the moment.

It was strange to suddenly be put in that part.

They hadn't talked much on the plane. He had happily munched down the decidedly human meal served on the plane – which she still didn't quite understand – and he and Dawn had teased each other a bit, but other than that, the mood had been so awkward with a stiff and strange Buffy there that there hadn't been much to do that wouldn't result in more horribly embarrassed silence.

Upon reaching the estate, he had kept to himself, mostly, occasionally accompanying her sister on her quest to train Slayers, taught the many girls mooning over his sexy body and handsome face a trick or two and quite a lot about vampires and got in a fight with Xander.

And then there were the patrols. It wasn't like this was a Hellmouth. There was preciously little to be done on the fighting demons front, so a group of five more experienced Slayers usually took care of it. But now, there was Spike and he went out separate from them and they complained there wasn't anything left to do for them.

It wasn't like she could tell him to stop, though. Sure, in theory she could and he would listen to her, but it was bad enough she couldn't find a way to just talk to him and make him feel better about being here, she couldn't take away his one outlet of anger. If there was one thing she knew about Spike, it was the fact that violence made him feel better. Not like she would ever admit to it, but Buffy really understood that. Maybe it came with the territory of being a Slayer, maybe it was just her.

So she let him and - more often than she'd care to admit - stalked him.

Like right now. Right now she was standing in a doorway, looking in on some catching up between two estranged people who loved each other.

She had to admit, she was jealous. Everything was so easy for those two. Spike and Dawn, all happy to be reunited, bad memories left in the past and living in the moment. Why could Dawnie be so open, kind, a natural at this friendship thing? Why was there no resentment or awkwardness between them? They had this connection that made him feel so at ease around her and her shining brighter than her ex-key-ey self was capable of around anyone else.

She didn't know what was said, just out of hearing range to prevent intruding too much, watching how happy Dawn was in comparison to before, like a weight had been lifted Buffy hadn't even previously known existed. She guessed that was what happened when you got your best friend back.

Buffy had gotten a taste of it the last few days. Yes, there was still a long way to go in mending fences with Willow and she still felt guilty even looking at Xander and Giles was a different topic entirely; nevertheless her emotional breakdown and the way the people who used to be her family had suddenly treated her again – albeit tentatively – had felt like a big ball of fluffiness. She had missed it. And at least with Willow, she had a good feeling everything could go back to the way things used to be. Who knew, maybe Xander would forgive her and perhaps there was a chance she could get over the betrayal she still felt from Giles.

Either way, for now, she was gazing in at a picture of friendship regained. Mostly, though, she was watching Spike. Spike who looked completely relaxed for the first time since she'd seen him again.

~~~~~

She had been so engrossed in the tableau before her that she only noticed Giles when he spoke up. He must have been standing behind her for quite some time now, watching her watching them.

"She's quite glad to see him, isn't she?"

Strangely enough his words didn't startle her, as if she'd been expecting him. Maybe it had been her train of thought that made her so decidedly unsurprised, even though her entire focus had been on the vampire and the girl who was now acting out a scene that obviously showed a clumsy 'Slayer fledgling', as she called the new girls, amusing Spike immensely. Buffy smiled.

"Yes, she really is."

She didn't turn around to face him, unwilling to miss out on a single flicker of joy in Spike's eyes. Besides, a part of her knew only too well this conversation could determine a lot more than just whether or not Spike was welcome in the mansion. It could go two ways and although she admitted to herself she was longing for one, it seemed no less frightening than the other.

"I didn't know her feelings for him ran so deep."

Something told her he wasn't just talking about Dawn. Her answer fit either way.

"I didn't either."

A pause. They both watched the two people in front of them in a silence which felt a lot more amiable than usual. She was almost sorry to break it, but there was a question that had been plaguing her. For the sake of actually looking at him, she temporarily abandoned her quest of keeping an eye on her sister and her-… her-…. her Spike. They would be fine without her keeping watch and this was important.

"Giles? What did you see?"

He looked like he understood, but she clarified it anyway.

"In the Mirror?"

For a little while she thought he wouldn't answer. He certainly was quiet for a long time. Not one to waste the opportunity, she looked at his face, actually at him for the first time in years, searching for the person she had known. He sure looked the same. Same tweed, same glasses-… no, actually they weren't the same glasses. When had he gotten a new pair? And why? They looked strange on his nose, even though they fit him really well, simply because she hadn't noticed them before. She wanted to ask about them, but decided against wasting that precious piece of small talk when the topic on the table was so much more serious.

Giles had gotten older beneath those glasses. A few additional wrinkles weren't what made her see that; it was more like he was weighed down by something. Maybe it was the hard line that had formed around his mouth that gave off the impression. There was a certain vibe of both grief and determination in it. His eyes, though… His eyes were exactly the same. They were warm and open and just a little vulnerable right now. Buffy felt a sudden surge of deeply rooted affection for the old man who was still the closest thing she had to a father. Sure, an estranged one, but loved dearly nonetheless. She hadn't realized how much she missed him, too.

When he finally answered her question, he took off his glasses, pulled a hanky out of his tweed jacket and carefully polished away, not meeting her eyes. He was smiling rather embarrassedly.

"I'm afraid you'll find it rather foolish."

Buffy was painfully aware of the fact that her guard still wasn't down completely. She didn't know if she was beyond mocking him for it if it really was sappy. But at least she was calm and-… kind of nostalgic. Maybe it would prevent her from lashing out.

"Well, you know mine. It's only fair you'd tell me."

She hadn't seen that smile in a long time, the quick one that showed just how deep in thought he really was. He put his glasses back on; then his eyes finally met his.

"I saw my goal completed. As hard as I am working on it, there's still a long way to go and this fascinating device showed me that the reward will be well worth the hardship."

"What are you working on?"

"A world where you don't have to be the Slayer."

Whatever it was she had expected – and she hadn't known what to expect, that was the whole point of asking him – that was not it.

"I don't mean to take away your choice, Buffy, by all means not. If you wish to continue being the Slayer, then you should. But I do want to give you the chance to say no to all of it and lead a normal life, whenever you're ready for that."

She couldn't say anything. Nothing. Giles had seen himself capable of giving her her choices back.

"To clarify what happened in the past: I'm not sorry I did what I did. I made an informed decision when I bought Wood the time to kill Spike. I don't regret wanting to protect you from the threat he posed you were unable to eliminate yourself. I do however feel deeply sorry for hurting you in the process and for destroying our relationship along with the trust you had in me. No apology could suffice for that. The least I can do is try to make it up to you. I want to be someone who deserves your trust again."

There were tears in his eyes now, undoubtedly mirrored by her own. His gaze lingered on her for a few more seconds, a sad smile both eradicating and emphasizing the line around his mouth, then he turned to look past her at the laughing Dawn and her smirking vampire friend.

"I can't pretend to be happy that Spike of all people is who you need. I still believe you can and should do better. But I do realize it is none of my business who you give your heart to. Besides, I find myself forced to acknowledge he's the one who aided me the most in making that dream of mine come true by closing the Hellmouth for you. And if it's him who can put that sparkle back in your eyes… I'll just have to-.. What's the American term? - …suck it up."

A shared chuckle. Buffy felt the knot around her heart loosen enough to say:

"I'd appreciate it."

They both knew it meant so much more than that. It meant 'thank you', it meant 'I forgive you', it meant 'I still love you'. And though none of that could be said by either of them, they understood. With a smile echoed by hers, Giles walked to leave her to her thoughts.

"Oh and Giles?", she called after him, "Don't ever try to say American things ever again. It's just… wrong."

He laughed briefly and quietly and then he was gone. Buffy looked after him for a long time. She couldn't even begin to understand that they had somehow managed to start mending a relationship she had previously thought of as pretty much irreparable.

She was pulled out of her reverie by the total absence of noise. First she only noticed the silence, then it hit her with an astounding clarity that the laughter and chatting coming from the room behind her had long since disappeared. Turning around, she was met with empty chairs and two mugs, one with the remains of hot chocolate, the other caked with blood.

Blood. Dawn had even thought to get blood for Spike. Not that that was the most pressing issue right now.

Without a moment's hesitation, Buffy broke into a run.

She knew where Dawn was bringing him.


	5. Chapter 5

To say Dawn was excited would be an understatement. In the span of just a few hours, her best friend had not only returned from the dead, but also come back into her life.

Admittedly, she had been downright furious at him for not checking in to tell her he was okay, not once in several years of her mourning and missing him. Then again, it wasn't like she had given him any sign he was wanted in her life before his 'death'. There was blinding joy at seeing him again; a sense of relief at finally being able to get rid of all the guilt and doubt that had stood between their friendship. And then, of course, there was the mere fun that came with being able to chat and laugh and mock other people and their own lives (or unlives) with him. And talking about serious things and to be actually taken serious by each other.

The thought occurred to her that Spike had been the first to see her as a real human being, not just an annoying teenage girl. And she had seen him, before anyone else, long before Buffy. To her, he had ceased to be a dangerous, soulless vampire the minute he had helped her break into the Magic Box. A strange moment, maybe, but then, he didn't do it for evil. He did it for her.

He was different, now. Not by a lot, but it was definitely noticeable. Had to be the shiny soul inside of him. At least she assumed that was still there. When she'd asked him, he'd smiled oddly and said it was, as if he wasn't sure it was a blessing or a – Angel pun coming up – curse. Dawn was astounded how many new sides to his personality she had missed out on just because she had still been sulking before the battle with the first. Maybe they were old ones she had forgotten or simply not seen before. But while he had always been surprising, now he was a downright enigma. One that for some reason made more sense than before.

Spike was sad, though. There was something about him that was a lot more defeated than before. She knew it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with Buffy, who – as he had mildly put it – hadn't been acting like she was at all glad to see him. There was hope in his eyes still, a tiny fluttering light, nervous and at every moment prepared to either go out entirely or spark a blazing inferno within the vampire. She would really have to have a long and possibly angry talk with her sister.

But first, there was something she wanted to show him.

"It's right in that room!"

She was skipping ahead of him now, hardly able to contain her enthusiasm. Oh, she couldn't wait. She should be able to, but now that he was here… She just absolutely had to know what he would see. Not like she didn't have a hunch, but she had to make sure she was right. Couldn't make Buffy get her head out of her ass if she wasn't right about this.

"Wait up, Niblet!"

But she knew she would be right.

She had finally reached the door, not for one second hesitating to pull down the handle and opening it wide.

Dawn still couldn't believe they had the Mirror of Erised in their castle. It made her even happier magic was real. Who knew, maybe J. K. Rowling had just taken elements borrowed from the real world and written her amazing books using them? Now she wanted to talk to her even more. Not like that would happen.

Shaking that train of thought, she quickly grabbed Spike's arm and whirled him around so that he was facing the mirror. And watched.

At first, he seemed annoyed she'd just drag him somewhere, mixed with a certain kind of lingering amusement. Then, his gaze narrowed in on the object before him, on the large piece of metal, glass and magic that held the deepest, most secret desire of his heart.

Dawn briefly wondered whether he could see himself, too; whether the mystical mirror made an exception and let a vampire see his carcass. Whether vampires could see anything at all.

From the look of it, they could.

There was wonder in his eyes, an open, vulnerable sense of trepidation and joy and something that couldn't be anything but love. He reached out to touch the glass in awe, awe that was quickly replaced with a sadness so tangible she wanted to kick herself for bringing him here, especially without preparing him first. His hand dropped back down.

When he spoke after a long, incredibly painful silence, he sounded resigned.

"Let me guess. It's the same mirror Angel supposedly found."

"You know about it?"

She hadn't thought he did. Because if he had, why hadn't he known exactly what he would have to face the moment he had seen the Mirror?

"'Course I did. Poof wouldn't shut up about how fantastic it was to look at himself all redeemed."

Which begged the question…

"Why didn't you look? I mean, did you?"

He was pointedly facing away from it now, a rueful, ironic smile playing with the corners of his mouth.

"Never even seen it. Pointless to take a good long look your heart's desire when you already know what it is. Painful, too."

"But you came back here for her."

With that, his gaze turned harder and while he said the first part softly enough for her to know he really was happy to spend time with her again, it was also clear how upset he was over the second.

"No, pet. I came here for you. She wouldn't even admit to wanting me here."

And what could she say to that? She was pissed at Buffy herself! Had gone into complete meltdown mode over missing him and loving him and seeing him in the freakin' Mirror of Erised and as soon as she found Spike, she acted like she hated him. She really needed to get some sense knocked into her and soon. Well, now that she knew for sure Spike was still head over heels for her, Buffy would have to endure a not so pleasant conversation with her favorite sister.

"Well, she's an idiot."

Again, that pained laugh.

"Can't say she isn't sometimes."

Then, he turned serious and that was worse than anything he'd said before.

"But maybe she's just done with me. Makes a bloke wonder why she'd come find him in the first place."

Dawns eyes were wide and she was biting her tongue. Things he would have noticed had he not been too preoccupied with that heavy feeling he then expressed.

"I might be a masochist, but I was honestly trying to get over her. No use in wanting someone you can't have."

"You didn't, though, right?"

At that, he had to laugh, even if it didn't sound as amused as he would have wanted it to.

"She's in the sodding mirror, isn't she? What do you think..."

Dawn knew she shouldn't interfere, not before have knocked some sense into her sister's stubborn head, but she simply couldn't stand to see him like this, all dejected and hurting. She wasn't going to tell him about what the Mirror had held for Buffy, but at least she could tell him something.

"She is happy you're back, you know. I don't know what her problem is, but she is happy."

"Care to tell me what makes you think that?"

Hm… What was she supposed to say now that wouldn't give it all away? Maybe something along the lines of 'She missed you'?

"Well-…"

"Dawn!"

It was only when Buffy hissed her sister's name that Spike realized she had probably been there all the time. She had spent the last few days practically stalking him and strangely enough, he had apparently gotten used to her scent, her breathing and her heartbeat enough to not have noticed her.

God, she looked glorious, all flushed and panicked. He could basically taste the blood rushing beneath her cheeks. Sometimes it was hard to not just fall to his knees and worship her.

"I wasn't going to tell!", Dawn squeaked.

To which Buffy answered:

"Just-… Grrrrrr!"

"Aaaargh!"

Spike watched confused as the two of them broke out in giggles.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone now. You really have some talking to do."

"I know."

"Bye Spike!"

The Niblet actually waved before skipping off in the direction of the door.

"Later, Bit."

Huffing about the nickname he knew she secretly adored, she scowled good-naturedly:

"I'm all grown up now, you know? And so much taller than Buffy!"

He smiled.

"I know."

And then Dawn left, the door falling shut behind her. He didn't know how to feel about being alone in a room with Buffy, especially this one, where their mirror selves were currently gazing at each other like lovers with no care in the world. The bit had said his girl was happy to have him back, but he was far from sure he believed her.

She broke the silence and for the first time since he died, he saw her with a soft look on her face and her voice was gentle. There was a glow in her eyes, an effulgence more intense than he'd ever seen there before.

"So you see me?"

He scoffed, eyes leaving hers. Why he would suddenly be embarrassed of his feelings for her, he didn't know. Wasn't like it was news for either of them.

"You even have to ask? Of course it's you. I have no doubt it would have been you even before I ever met you.

"That's… I'm glad you-…"

"I'm sorry."

He didn't even know why he interrupted her. But it had been weighing on him for the last few days. Hell, even before that. The minute he had been back and hadn't used his corporeal again hand to pick up the phone, he had felt the weight of this decision.

"What?"

"For not calling. I didn't know the Niblet was taking it so hard."

"She wasn't the only one."

If his heart was capable of doing so, it would have skipped a beat. Possibly more than just one. Was she saying that Dawn was right? That she had missed him?

"Really?" was all he could ultimately get out of his mouth.

"I-… Why didn't you? Tell me you were back?"

"Figured you deserved a fresh start", he sighed. Then, as an afterthought he added:

"Me, too, for what it's worth."

"Is that what you want? A fresh start?"

Despite himself, he snorted harshly.

"No bloody use, is it? You'll never leave me a second of peace."

He almost wished he hadn't said it, even if it was true. Buffy looked as if he had struck her across the cheek. Her voice sounded tiny, as if she didn't know what to say to make it better.

"I'm sorry."

He sighed. Then he turned to smile at her. It wasn't a proper smile, not the kind that exuded happiness; that, he could feel, but no one could say it wasn't a genuine one.

"Don't be. Really love, don't be."

He wasn't. If he was completely honest with himself – and he always was – loving Buffy was the best thing that had ever happened to him, even if it killed him in more than just the metaphorical meaning of the word. She had changed him, turned him inside out, but it wasn't like he could claim he hadn't let her, hadn't wanted her to. He still wanted her to. Or just wanted her.

In all his introspection he hadn't noticed her tearing up, but the words she spoke next seemed to cut right into his chest and touch that pesky soul of his.

"I'm sorry I was so mean to you."

His eyes focused on her, on her green eyes lined with moisture and the tremble of her mouth.

Like every time that happened, his mind went back to that night and it wasn't just his soul that made him want to tear his own heart out.

It was choking him, so Spike did his best to swallow the ache in his throat.

She was making an effort. A real, genuine effort to deal with their out of control affair like a thing that could be discussed among grown-ups. And she seemed-… contrite?

He didn't want to lie. Things had been bad between them, incredibly bad even before he flipped and a lot of that had been Buffy's doing. He might have been to take their game to a place there was no coming back from, but she wasn't innocent in the way she had treat him.

The fact that she was able to see that even through all the hate she must still feel for him because of what he had done as a consequence… He at least owed it to her to acknowledge her apology for what it was.

"I know you are. Just like you know that I'm sorry, too", he finally said.

Because she had to know it. She had to. Seeking out a demon to give him back his soul had to have made that clear, even if it couldn't erase what had happened no more than he could expect to be forgiven.

Despite trying to handle this issue as a thing of the past, his brain took him back there and her healthy tears of moving on transformed into tears of terror again, of disgust and betrayal and the knowledge that he had destroyed everything.

Spike tilted his head back and closed his eyes in an attempt to keep the forthcoming tears at bay. His throat felt as raw as his grand gesture clawing against his chest from the inside.

"I'm so sorry..."

And then she said words he was almost sure he only imagined. Yes, she had accepted his worth as a fighter and defended him against her friends, had let him hold her and told him he gave her strength, had told him she loved him even as a last motion of thank you, but never in a million years would he have thought…

"You more than made up for it. If there was ever anything to make up for."

His eyes opened and he could only stare. She was smiling, of all things, and it wasn't a cruel smile or a hurt smile or a fake smile. It was her in all her openness, eyes radiating warmth he had only in preciously rare moments seen aimed at him.

"Buffy-…"

"It took me a while, but I get it now, why I never wanted to stake you for it."

She hadn't?

"Why is that?"

"Because you at no point meant to hurt me."

He wanted to sink to his knees, bury his face in his hands and weep. Just weep at her feet until there was nothing left inside of him.

She was right, of course. Hurting her had been the last thing on his mind in that moment. He hadn't even noticed she was trying to push him off until she'd succeeded. It was only when he went back to that moment in his mind that everything was clear and he could see himself for what he had been doing to her then, could see the tears and her attempts to make him get off of her, could feel her little fists against his chest, her cries for him to please, please stop…

He hadn't intended to violate her. But to him, that had never diminished his guilt, not one bit of it.

And now, she had given him forgiveness. Given. Him. Forgiveness.

"It's over now", she went on and there was a finality to her tone that would have made him know for sure – if he hadn't gotten it before – that she wouldn't accept any more pain over this subject.

"At least, I would like to believe it is. We're different people now. We don't need to drag all that ugliness around with us anymore than we have to."

There was no wrapping his mind about the fact that she wanted them both to let it go and finally be free of it.

His voice felt choked up.

"Yeah."

A long pause.

Spike felt like he had been reduced or possible expanded to nothing but a big fiery ball of hope and awe and love for the powerful, fragile, impossible woman that had simply forgiven him for the biggest wrong he had ever committed.

Eventually, he noticed he had turned to face the mirror again and his eyes flicked up to her face in the old glass. There was a pensive look on it; still the same joy he had seen before the real version had shown up, but that one was a Buffy clearly deep in thought.

"Spike?", she softly spoke up.

"Hmm?"

"Stay here?"

Her voice was so small, so vulnerable. God, he wanted to believe it was she who wanted that. If it was… the gifts she was giving him today, he would never be able to return. Never. Already that was the case, even if his prolonged stay was just-… He cleared his throat and said:

"Right, for Dawn."

"No."

In the mirror, he could see her hand nearing his and he wished, he wished it wasn't just what he wanted to see.

Then he felt her hand slide softly into his, their finger entwining as if they'd never done anything else.

"For me."

He looked straight ahead into the mirror, where Buffy was looking back at him, soft, determined, her hand small, but strong, holding his. But she couldn't. She couldn't mean…

"Now let's get out of here. Two of you in one room are just too distracting."

Spike could have sworn he felt his heart flutter.

~~~~~

Buffy smiled.

I love you? No, she wasn't ready for that.

Loving Spike was scarier than all her past apocalypses and both deaths combined. It would probably take a little while for her to get used to the thought and all of its ramifications. It was too new, too strange and she just wasn't ready. But for the first time in her life, she knew she would be.

And he would still be there, right by her side when the time finally did come when she could say the words. Then, she would mean them.

Together, they stepped out of the room and left the Mirror to its magic.

There would be no need for them to return.

_The End ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel so inclined, please vote for me at the Sunnydale Memorial Awards; I'll be forever grateful.   
> This story is very dear to my heart.   
> Thank you for reading!


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